Park Life
by EbbyGothic
Summary: Park Life is a magazine as well as the brainchild and business adventure of Eric T. Cartman. When the public lack of interest in the publishlings and a lazy write staff threaten to flush Cartmans dreams down the toilet he must come up with a new direction for the magazine in the hopes of salvaging his aspirations and avoiding bankruptcy. Rated M for language and smutty themes.
1. Chapter 1

Eric Cartman sat at the small desk in his dingy office. He sighed heavily, breathing back deeply taking in a nose full of the strong scent of mildew which lingered in the small, dank office space. He'd wanted to be good at something for as long as he could remember, always trying hard to discover a purpose in life and he thought he had, going into publishing and all.

The man had known all along and kept telling himself. "I'll never make it out of South Park." Therefore, submitting to eternity in the Podunk, piss ant mountain town. Eric accepted defeat and opened a small business by his twentieth birthday. Yes, Mr Eric Cartman was the owner and editor of the small, rarely well circulated magazine Park Life.

Being a little, start-up company Cartman could only afford four employees, yet it was beyond him why he'd hired friends. They were far from talented writers and incompetent. Sometimes Cartman found himself thinking that the only reason his so called friends took the jobs when offered was to draw a pay check for doing nothing or as close to nothing as they possibly could.

Recently the gravy train had ran dry. It was time to work or drive their boss to bankruptcy. With two mortgages on the small office building Eric had borrowed the money off his mom to purchase, his car repossessed and his life slowly falling to shambles as he sat idly by watching the leeches suck him dry. Cartman knew it was now make or break.

Cartman slowly reached into his desk drawer pulling out the last of a bottle of cheap bourbon and five grimy glasses. The light above him flickered as he lined up the glasses and slowly half-filled them with the last of the amber liquid. The near broken man questioned himself as he looked toward the pulsing globe suspended above him. "Have I paid the electricity bill this month?" He quizzed as he heard his office door wildly flung open and the sounds of feet begin piling in.

Dull chattering amongst the four other men could be heard as they slumped into their individual seats.

Forcing a smile through gritted teeth Cartman softly cleared his throat for silence. Eyes turned toward him, the feeling of holes being bored through the man caused him to begin to sweat.

"Thank you for coming to todays meeting guys….." Cartman began politely.

"Whatever, lardwad. Why are we here and why did my last cheque bounce?" Stan Marsh spoke up.

Clenching his eyes shut Cartman threw himself back dramatically in his chair. He raised his arms up and began tugging at strands of his chestnut hair.

"Ok you fucking asswipes wanna know why your pay didn't go in?" Eric grunted losing his earlier calm. "It's because we haven't sold a copy of our magazine in almost three months. My car go repo'd, I've mortgages the building and all my dreams just to pay you fucking wankstains and what for… what the fuck do you people do. Have you read this fucking garbage you fill my magazine with, what was meant to be my legacy is not just your personal piggy bag but it's also somewhere you assholes think you can rant about any old drivel and people will lap it up and come crawling back for a second helping. Well guess what fellas the milk's gone sour and no one will drink it. Not even Kenny's family. So listen and listen up good." Cartman vented.

The brunette leapt from his chair and thrust a chubby digit in the direction of Kyle Broflovski.

"Kahl….. no one wants to read about finance. It's stale and boring pluss these days everyone has an accountant. I know I do and every time he see's me he's all like, _the fuck man? _So no more finance section."

Cartmans hazel gazed turned in the direction of the blonde goofball Leopold 'Butters' Stotch.

"Now Buttplug, I think you are the only one here with any actual talent. But I told you many times only little fag boys read the funnies. Don't get me wrong dude, you can draw and you're good at your craft but I was right. No one wants for read comic strips in magazines anymore. Why would they when there's sex, violence and any other sordid little tidbit they desire on the idiot box? I mean, all the fat lazy fucks have to do is reach out and flick on the tv and all they need it there. Therefore comics and funnies are no longer part of this publishing….. As for you Marsh. If the sports event is epic enough everyone watches it. They don't want to read what some nobody thinks about it the next day after they've seen it. Let's face it, once you know, you know. Then you don't care and you move on and don't even get me started on you Tucker. What do you even write here? Does anybody know what Tuckers job actually is….. no, didn't think so. For fuck sake people we're called Park Life, we claim to be a family unit and we're boring as fuck."

The other four men perched around the table their gazes firmly fixed upon their boss. Their features, stern and furious, far from pleased as they'd all just been assaulted by their going for broke boss.

"So fatass you're broke and it's our fault?" Kyle growled, finally breaking the silence.

Glares were exchanged between the pair before something was said, something that made Cartman think.

"I'm a columnist." Craig answered, flipping Eric a double barrel finger flip.

"Huh sorry Craig?" Cartman said, breaking his stare show down with Kyle to give the noirettes words attention, in hopes someone could come up with a suggestion to save his dwindling business.

"I write saucy, smut stories or in the early days we'd receive letters about sex and life that I'd answer but you put a stop to that happening and now the magazine is dead." Craig explained.

Standing up and placing his hands on the desk before him Cartman smiled widely, although this time the grin wasn't faked or forced.

"That's so crazy it may just work. We write columns about our lives or things we've seen or heard in town and we accept questions. We revamp Park Life with the inhabitancy of the town in mind. If someone needs help with sex, love, life any of that shit. Vibrators, buttplugs, beastiality, someone they love died. Any fucking thing we will answer it happily and publish it in our magazine. Then with an influx of letters asking questions and requesting stories the brainless assholes will buy our magazine to see if we replied to them. It's perfect, Craig I could kiss you." Cartman chirped.

Craigs feature remained the same, not happy nor sad. He didn't blink or move a muscle.

"You could but I don't think Tweek would like that." Craig replied in his usual monotone.

"God fucking dammit dude, gross. I don't wanna write about vibrators or any of that sick sex shit." Stan scoffed.

Kyles lips curled up in a smirk and he coughed out the word prude. Mocking his super bests unwillingness for the change.

Butters leaned over toward Stan a crude grin spread across his usually angelic features.

"Stan…..um well. I suggest before you knock it….. oh darn what do I say. Ok I'll just say what I'm thinking. Before you bag it and say gross, I suggest you fucking try it. That shit is fun."

* * *

**AUTHORS NOTE -**

A big warm welcome to our avid readers. Once again thank you for the continuing support and words of encouragement. It really gives us the drive we need to keep pumping out the good shit we know you all thoroughly enjoy. As you guessed this is another team effort between my pal Sarcasm (XxDarkSarcasm1010xX) and I. We're partners and honestly what's better than one gifted writer; yes two.

I'll cut it short for you my dears. This is an interactive fic. Meaning, we want you to get involved in the fun.

In the reviews section we'd love to see some questions for the Park Life columns, please don't forget the name of which character you would like to answer your question and don't fret, everyone will have their questions answered eventually.

So get cracking deary's, fire off those questions so we can get working on future chapters for this fic.

E... xo.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Cartman sat at his desk as he looked down toward his desk and sighed. He'd placed advertising about the revamp of Park Life and had even done a radio interview explaining how the new turn for the magazine needed support of the public; his town, his family. A soft knock on the open office door caused Cartman's gaze to turn upward. He nodded toward Dougie. The young ginger was still close to Butters had snagged one of the low lining jobs in Cartman's business. Dougie manned the mail room yet recently the only mail the younger man had been present Cartman with was stacks upon stacks of pesky bills, final notices and repo slips. Dougie slowly stepped forth into the office until he was standing at the foot of Eric's desk.

The ginger placed a stack of letters on Cartman's desk.

"Perhaps your pleas have been answered boss." Dougie stated softly, sporting a slight grin, fully aware of the dire straits the company had fallen into.

Cartman smirked as he ripped into one of the letters.

"Fucking brilliant!" The stocky brunette chirped, jumping up from his chair and rushing toward Dougie, snatching him up in a massive bear hug and planting a wet kiss upon the other man's cheek.

"Dougie, you bought me good news. I fucking swear, once the business is good again I'll offer you a better job. I promise. Now get going. I gotta see the writing team." Cartman rambled ecstatically.

Moving swiftly, Cartman weaved through the halls, coming to the writer's room. He burst in to see his four authors goofing off. Butters was snoozing at his desk; Stan was drinking a cup of coffee as his feet were propped up on his desk; Kyle had constructed a paper plane and released it, allowing it to glide through the air, across the room and hit the sleeping Butters in the side of the head; Craig was intently staring at his computer screen with a slight grin playing at his lips.

Cartman cleared his throat, causing everyone to turn to him. Craig reached out and slapped Butters in the head, unremorsefully as Stan let out a throaty chuckle at the Butters girly yelp as he awakened.

"Wassup fat tits?" Kyle greeted Cartman. Cartman scowled flinging the many envelopes on the desk before the Jew.

"Dougie just delivered me the mail for today. It's all for you butt fuckers, sort through it and get writing. I not only expect columns for the ask section but I also expect five articles each on my desk before the week's out." Cartman ordered.

Cartman turned and exited the room and the other three men crowded around Kyles desk as they began trifling through the mail. Once it was sorted the men retreated to their own desks.

It seemed everyone went immediately to work sorting through their letters placing them into piles.

Butters sat reading every letter with enthusiasm, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth as his eyes scanned every words and his lips slowly mouthed them, the goofy blonde taking the task seriously and absorbing every word.

"Fellas, I'm gonna try to answer every letter. These people sound like they really want our opinions." Butters announced.

Kyle waved a hand toward the blonde and Stan simply glared toward him.

Butter glanced to see Craig intently sifting through the letters too.

"Fuck this." Stan whined. "Its lunch time, Ky you coming. My shout today."

Kyle nodded eagerly, throwing a handful of mail on his desk and climbing up.

Butters gawked as the two left, slamming the door behind them.

"Well, geez Craig… They're gone." Butters said staring up toward the noriette before biting his lip.

"Fuck them… If those dumb asses want to get fired that's their issue." Craig explained, turning back to his work.

Butters nodded as he was captivated by a question he'd love to answer.

The blonde turned to his computer and carefully retyped the question.

_**Butters,**_

_**What do you like to do in the bedroom? Are you more of the submissive or dominant type?**_

_**Anon.**_

Butter couldn't help but giggle as he focused on how to word his reply, then it hit him.

_Dear Anon,_

_That's a difficult question to answer because there are many facts to consider when it comes to sexual preferences._

_Being Hawaiian, my mood changes from day to day, it's a curse being so darn indecisive, yet I must confess, it sure makes my partners happy. Sex can become so boring if you continue doing it exactly the same, therefore being flexible with the dom or sub thing really spices up your sex life._

_But if you must know, I'm usually submissive. Not because I'm weak, because I prefer to bottom with my sexual partners, yet as I stated I'm not afraid to top if I'm in the right mood._

_When it comes to what I enjoy behind closed doors that too often alters._

_If you know me, then you know I'm the type who enjoys the company of both male and female bedfellows, so one night I could be with a woman, the next a man. It may seem odd to some, but to me it feels right._

_Getting back to the question though, my main kinks include light bondage, such as handcuffs or being bound with silk scarves. I also enjoy being gagged or blindfolded. Nothing too exotic there._

_In the bedroom I'm more into fulfilling my partners' fantasies than my own. It's not uncommon for two consenting adults to toy with a few restraints these days so I'm usually the type to ask the person I'm sleeping with what they would like to do, being considerate is what makes them keep coming back for more._

_The craziest fetish I've been requested to partake in was adult baby play. I can't divulge who asked me to do that, but I will say I'm not proud that I actually did it. That's another thing; discretion is another trait that people enjoy when sex is involved. So there you have it, your old pal Butters is pretty boring with what he likes. Who would've even known that? Sarcasm guys, yes I do use it._

_Until next time._

_Butters._

The blonde gave a toothy grin as he sat back, reading over each and every word. Craig had watched Butters type out an answer almost diligently, and peered back at his own pile of questions.

There were some about relationships, some asking about Craig's personal kinks, and even a question asking if he would ever consider using taco flavoured lube.

He thought about it.

Debatable.

He came to a certain letter that had his name on it, surrounded by hearts and crude drawings. Opening the envelope, he scanned the question written on a piece of scrap paper and contemplated.

Moving towards his laptop, he blinked and retyped the question, an answer already forming in his head.

_**Craig,**_

_**I want to get with this good looking porn star type blonde with chiselled abs, a long dick, and the sexiest orange parka I have ever seen, but he's really popular with the ladies and the guys. How do I woo that sex god?**_

_**Anon. **_

Craig cracked his knuckles, a bad habit he had come accustomed too in this type of business. Soon his fingers were flying over the keyboard.

_To Anon,_

_There are three things to consider when pursuing someone, either for relations, something long term, or something short term with another individual. Regardless if this is infatuation, love or lust, courting another individual is an art that had been developed throughout the ages. _

_If you ask around, it becomes apparent that confidence is something that is looked for in a partner. It's important to be confident when approaching the blonde that holds your affections; it will yield results. This does not mean being showy, or acting cocky, but rather approaching with positive intentions. _

_Introduce yourself. Be proactive. _

_Being proactive means initiating conversation, reading into the other individuals nonverbal cues, not forcing yourself onto them and making your intents clear. If you're aiming for a more personal relationship, you need to invest yourself with that individual and appease their interest. Contrary to popular belief, people enjoy speaking, especially about themselves. Ask questions. Conversation is an ideal way to connect with an individual. If you want a one night stand, make yourself available, and provide an open invitation. _

_After that, you want to judge the situation._

_Is it a good idea to pursue someone who holds the interest of the mass majority? What do you want from the situation? Are you able comfortable being with a porn star type with a long dick who's had multiple partners? _

_If the answer is yes, then make an effort to keep in contact and continue being proactive. _

_If the individual isn't interested, it might be better to cut your losses. _

_Once again, those were:_

_Be confident. _

_Be proactive._

_And make smart choices._

_If you do these three things then your chances of wooing the object of your desires, and making a significant impression, will rise substantially; you have nothing to lose by approaching the individual who has sparked your interest._

_Unless that person is Kenny McCormick. No one should be interested in him. _

_Ever. _

_Best of luck, _

_Craig. _

"Well that's not a nice thing to say, Craig!" Butters chirped, pointing at the bottom of Craig's screen. The noirette glared at the fingerprint smudge and pressed save. He hated people reading over his shoulder.

"I give advice. That's good advice." Craig said.

"Yea, but Kenny has feelings too." Butters chided as he returned to his desk, humming under his breath.

"I don't care."

The sound of clambering feet made the two writers turn towards the door.

"Where the hell did dumb and dumber go?" Cartman growls.

"Lunch." Craig supplies as he glances at his watch, "Which seems like a good idea right about now."

Butters beams and grabs his coat, "Ah, C-Craig can I come with you? We can talk about questions and all that fun stuff."

Craig glances at the blonde before shrugging. The two amble past Cartman, and Butters gives a little wave, leaving the brunette standing in the middle of an empty room. Taking a deep breath, Cartman calls out Dougie's name, and the ginger haired boy runs over with a notepad.

"Alright, we're going to put out an ad to get some new writers in this place." Cartman hisses, loosening his tie, "Those asshats want to waste my time, let's see who's laughing when I don't pay for their three hour lunch breaks of their coffee runs."

He glances at Butters and Craig's computer screens, seeing words written and articles started. "Yea, the Jew and the Hippy are going to wish they pissed off someone else."

Dougie presses his pen against the clipboard, "So what should I write, Sir?"

"Come walk with me Dougie."

"Whatever you like, boss." 


End file.
